Fury. Blind unbridled fury filled her. So completely filled, that she could scarcely breathe around it. In the space of a heart beat she reared back and tore the shrubbery in front of her apart and took flight before she could even pause to think. As she unfurled her wings she knocked in to him, sending him over the edge. She didn’t care. Her first visit to this so called birth land of her hers had been a complete and utter disaster. After clearing the edge of the pass she collected her emotions and focused them, sifting dimensions to her true home realm, leaving him and the audacity of that land behind her. Most likely, never to return.

He'd been surprised, when she'd managed to effect the thickly woven, tough-limbed shrubbery - and curious. How'd she done that? In his effort to step closer to see if he'd left any sort of weakness he'd been unaware of he'd completely overlooked her movement; and as a price for not paying attention, promptly got bumped.

He felt a hoof slip off the edge, but a few flickers of his wings righted him soon enough; he didn't really give it a second thought. He was back to examining the bits of shrubbery. Foolhardy mares weren't really an interest of his, but he'd be willing to bet that that particular one would have quite the wounds on her front legs. Each section of plant he could see was easily two inches across. And he'd woven them thick and tight.

And they had been forced-grown from a living plant; flexible was often stronger.

Tilting his head, he took a step closer to continue his studies, searching for signs of blood in case the injuries had gone that far, and felt the hoof which had slipped give a sharp twinge. Apparently, he'd twisted his hock without realizing it.

With a shrug Darroch shifted his weight and went back to the plant, contemplating how insane someone must be to injure themselves in breaking something else. It was a valuable lesson; next time, he'd have to make sure to account for such rashness. Then again, not everyone was such a hothead.

Without thinking about it he had the shrub grow up once again, securing and supporting his twisted leg before withering the ends that came from the ground. With the tips withered hard together it helped to steady his leg as he wandered around, acting like nothing so much as a cast. He could shift back home quite easily, but he was far from being done with exploring; besides, he was curious about this mountain. It would be interesting to see the changes as he descended. And he'd never tried to scale a cliff with a sore hoof before; it could be interesting.

It could also be miserable, but that would be interesting in its own way.

By the time he'd finished poking around with the bits of shrubbery he'd completely forgotten about Zara.